


The First Lesson

by mickeym



Category: Original - Fandom
Genre: Dom/sub, Foot Fetish, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-10-28
Updated: 1999-10-28
Packaged: 2017-10-08 14:59:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/76845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mickeym/pseuds/mickeym
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A new sub's first lesson with his Dom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The First Lesson

I didn't know what to expect or what I wanted, exactly, that first day in His service. I knew I had needs inside myself that weren't being met, and I suspected the different ways they might be met, if I had it within me to seek them out. I wasn't certain I did, but there was only one way to find out.

I arrived at precisely ten a.m. on the appointed day, with nothing more than a suitcase and a small shoulder bag. I would be here for at least a month; after that, it was negotiable.

I stood in the large, open room, waiting for him, and I wondered about this; if this was the right decision. My eyes wandered the room, taking in my surroundings, getting a feel for the place. The sun was shining brightly, and I could see dust motes dancing in the beams of light that filtered in. The walls were lined with wood paneling, and in the brightness and light, they looked warm, almost honey-colored. Over the windows were long draperies; they were done in a dark red color, almost a burgundy. Looking at them made me think of fine wines. There were several large pieces of furniture; a sofa and loveseat and two chairs, all done in leather in a deep, rich forest green. It was an open, comfortable place; nothing at all like the dark dungeon I had envisioned.

He didn't care for dungeons much, I learned later.

He came into the room with very little fanfare, though I had expected something to mark his entry. He carried himself very regally; there was a lot of command and power in the way he held his body. He was dressed very casually; loose cotton pants, like sweats, with a draw-string tie, and a white cotton tee-shirt, the muscle kind. Dark red hair tied back from his face; I wondered how long it would be if he let it down. His eyes, when I looked, appeared almost multicolored. Within them seemed to swirl blue and gray, changing from iron-color to ocean blue, to something like the mists of the Pacific Northwest. His body was firm and well-muscled, though he wasn't a large man; in truth, I was considerably bigger. He was beautiful, though. Amazingly beautiful.

His name was Ashton; I would address him as Sir, or Master, depending on his mood.

Once upon a time, my name was Trevor. Now I would answer to whatever he chose to call me, in whatever manner he chose to use.

We had made love once, a one-time thing, at an Inn outside Boston, where we'd met by chance. A one-night stand which had turned into an opportunity for more; for a chance to find myself. Now I would offer my body, my soul, all parts of me in return for things I didn't know how to ask for, things I needed and couldn't understand. Yet.

* * *

"Your first lesson," he said quietly, eyes watching me, "is to learn your place. Everything and everyone has a place, and most have to learn it. You start out at the bottom and work your way up to a new place. Privileges are earned, not given." He motioned and I knelt in front of him, my hands resting on my thighs. I had to work hard to squash the urge to curl them in anticipation and anxiety. "Do you know what your place is, boy?" Those incredible eyes of his--the very thing that caught my attention to start with--held me, glittering as they tracked over my face. I wondered if he could see into my soul.

"Yes, Sir. My place is here, at your feet, Sir. As anything you want me to be." I took another deep breath; just saying the words made my stomach tighten.

"You say the words; do you know, truly, what they mean?"

I licked my lips. Was this a test? Was he wanting a response, or was it a rhetorical question? I closed my eyes and shook my head, whispering softly, "no, Sir."

"That's right, you don't. And you need to learn, don't you, boy." He extended his legs toward me; his feet were bare. "Learn what the words mean; learn what your place is. Start at the bottom. Worship me with your tongue, and don't stop until I tell you."

I shivered; the command in his voice would have been impossible to miss, even if I hadn't been hanging on every word. But--lick his feet? I couldn't, could I? Kneel down before him like a dog and...? I swallowed hard and leaned forward, far enough that I could scent him; his body smelled clean, fresh. A soft scent, almost like warm summer grass, tickled my nose lightly. Underneath was the headier musk of his body; dark, rich, overwhelmingly male. I shivered once and nuzzled at his calves, breathing in deeply.

"My feet," he said softly, though I could hear steel in his voice. I quivered inside at the thought of other parts of him that would be like steel, and backed up a pace so I could reach him better.

I'd been prepared to be repulsed, but his feet smelled the same as the rest of him, and the skin was so warm when I rested my cheek against the top of his right foot. I rubbed gently for a moment, then turned my head enough to lick at that warm spot. It didn't taste like anything, just warm skin, maybe a hint of salt. I licked again, following the curve of his foot back to his ankle, then forward, each lap of my tongue touching some new part of him, caressing and worshipping as he'd ordered. As I discovered I wanted to do.

I shifted between both feet for a while, losing myself in the eroticism of the act. His skin was warm and smooth, and tasted good. Above me I could hear gentle sighs, and his hand came down once to rest on my head, fingers stroking through my hair. Petting me.

I shifted again and licked at his instep, then bit gently, letting my teeth score tender, sensitive skin. He groaned softly, fingers tightening in my hair. "Again, pet."

I bit him again, then sucked at that spot before licking over it. When his fingers released me I moved to repeat it on the other foot. My body was humming with arousal and pleasure at the knowledge that I was pleasing my Master. I wanted to make him feel like he was a King, to let him know I considered him the center of my world.

I ran my tongue between each toe, slipping it quickly enough to tickle a little; a sensuous glide over and between sensitive skin. At the last toe I paused to suckle, flicking my tongue over and around the small digit, like I would his cock, when I was given the chance. He sighed once, and I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye as he rubbed himself. My own erection was hugely swollen; it throbbed harshly against the jeans I was still wearing, the metal of the zip pressing against my aching flesh. But I hadn't been told to stop, or that I could touch myself so I shifted enough to accommodate it in a slightly more comfortable position, and tried my best to ignore it. This pleasure was for him, not for me.

This was to teach me my place, to show me what my function was.

I took each toe into my mouth and sucked, teasing the tips with my teeth before soothing them with long laps of my tongue. When I'd licked and sucked each one on each foot I moved back to his big toe on his right foot and wrapped my tongue around it, stroking it, sucking it, giving it as much erotic attention as I could. My fingers rubbed and stroked at his other foot, massaging the slickness of my spit into the soft skin, making me a tiny part of him.

His body tensed; I could feel each line in his foot, in his leg turning hard, solid, losing the fluid grace his muscles his muscles had shown. If I had stopped to look up, I knew I would see him jerking himself, that long, hard column throbbing in his own hand, releasing the pleasure I'd started.

Above me I heard a rough voice, the words harsh and panting. "Stop, boy!"

Mindless in my pleasure I didn't comprehend them, my tongue still working, still moving. A rough hand grabbed my hair; my Master, bending to enforce his command. Then I was sprawled on the floor in front of him, blinking in confusion, trying to understand what had happened.

"You must never, ever lose yourself so deeply that you do not hear my voice, comprehend what I'm telling you. Do you understand me?" His eyes shone at me, darkly blue, narrowed as he gazed at me, and I felt a hot flush of humiliation sweep over me as I nodded. "You know the proper response, boy."

"Yes, Sir." I didn't dare say anything else; my throat felt tight from his disappointment, his disapproval.

And my dick was still hard and throbbing in my pants, proving it had a different brain from the higher-functioning one.

'This is your first lesson, boy. I expected it when I accepted your contract. You've never been a submissive, never served at all before; I knew all that. Still, I expect you to pay heed to your lessons. Once can be viewed as a learning experience; if it happens again, I'll have to assume that you're not paying attention, or not interested, and take proper measures."

I gulped audibly. I was certainly interested! There were just so many things I wanted to learn, to experience, to feel. So many things to do. I backed up a pace and bowed my head to the floor. "I'm sorry, Sir. I will pay attention better, and I will learn. I'll make you proud."

"I'm sure you will, boy." I could hear a hint of smile in his voice, and it warmed me, soothing the humiliation that was still burning my cheeks. "Come up here boy, and clean me up."

I knelt up before him, between his spread thighs, and licked eagerly at his spendings. Strong, salty, a little bitter, but it tasted so good, almost like a reward. I lapped at his balls, cleaning the hair they were nestled in, then at his cock itself. He was flaccid again, but still good-sized, flopped over on his leg. He was uncut, with the foreskin pulled down over the tip. I looked at him for permission, and when he nodded, reached for him to push the 'skin back, to lick underneath, cleaning him everywhere.

He tasted saltier under his 'skin for some reason, but it was still wonderful, and I licked and sucked with abandon, hardly aware that I was beginning to hump at his leg, soft grunts rising from my throat.

"Rub against me until you spill," he said thickly, his hands in my hair, guiding my head. He was growing again, his erection taking shape under my mouth. I reached to unzip my pants, and his fingers tightened, pulling my hair. "No. Spend in your pants."

I made some sort of assenting noise in my throat; I couldn't talk as my mouth was full of him, and humped against his leg harder. I was so close...it wouldn't take much.

I wasn't sucking him off any longer; Master had grabbed my head and held me still while he thrust upward into my mouth. I kept the suction up, hollowing my cheeks to give him the greatest amount of pleasure, breathing through my nose so I wouldn't gag. His cock was so thick, so big when he was fully engorged that it was a challenge. But sucking cock was something I was good at, and I loved giving him the benefit of that skill.

I felt the warning signs; my belly tightened, and my legs tingled, my cock seemed to grow inside my pants. I humped faster, groaning around his dick as mine exploded inside my pants, hot cream spattering against my briefs, soaking through to my jeans. I froze as the wave crashed over me, then froze again when he thrust one last time, deep into my throat, his dick swelling, throbbing, sending his cream down inside me.

I cleaned him up again afterward, but wasn't permitted to touch myself. When he was satisfied I'd gotten him as clean as was possible, he tucked himself back inside his trousers and smiled at me. "Collect your bags, boy, and we'll see about getting you settled."

I returned the smile and climbed to my feet, ignoring the wobble of my knees. It was early to tell yet, but I was pretty sure I'd made the right decision. "Yes, Sir."

~Finis~


End file.
